


So Warm My Winter

by Ghanima_Starkiller



Series: Greek Mythology [1]
Category: Greek and Roman Mythology, Mythology - Fandom
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-13
Updated: 2013-03-13
Packaged: 2017-12-05 05:09:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 576
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/719224
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ghanima_Starkiller/pseuds/Ghanima_Starkiller
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Persephone experiences a warm welcome as she and her husband reunite after their time apart. Companion piece to <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/10080761">So Glistening My Spring</a></p>
            </blockquote>





	So Warm My Winter

The flowers in her hair withers as she draws closer, turning brown and crumbling as if touched by the hand of death himself; the sky is flat and gray save for the chromatic arch of a rainbow, Iris’ final farewell. They don’t understand, not a one of them: humoring her mother come springtime was like winter inside her heart every year. As she descends, the yellow curls that tumble from her head wilt as the flowers had, fading to a stunning shade of silver, like the glitter atop a fresh snowfall.

He waits for her in the garden where first she had sealed her fate. He is dark and wild, swathed in shadows that seem to reach out with tendrils to touch and caress her. His eyes, his eyes are nearly as black as his long hair, his skin as wan as white silk. He stands beneath the pomegranate tree, a clandestine joke between them. He sweeps sweet Persephone into his arms and kisses her, the force and heat of it pushing her head back.

She kneels before him; always she is welcomed back into her beloved husband’s arms by the act that bound them together at the first. She parts his black robes, and they part with her, like smoke swirling away from the movement of her small, delicate hands. His long cock is already erect, straining upward from a nest of his dark hair, the coarse black hair that covers most of his body. His coleus was swollen, bulging with the seed that united them those years ago. She caresses it gently as she pulls the head atop his member, engorged, round like a ripe plum, between her lips, groaning and smiling as she suckles it.

Her small pink tongue licks its way along the velvet flesh of his shaft, feeling the pulse of his sacred blood beneath. Her hand holds him, strokes along his length, as her lips kiss his scrotum, sucking tenderly at the fragile, sensitive skin, lapping at and swallowing up one testicle at a time. His fingers are tangled in her hair, pulling its weight up and off of her back and shoulders holding up but away from himself, so he may watch her a she returns to his cock. The tip is already weeping the translucent tears of his pre-cum. She laps it up before pushing her mouth down on his organ, groaning, the sound reverberating against and exciting his inflamed groin.

She opens her throat to him and he glides as fully as he can into her mouth, her lips wrapped around his furry root, her nose tickled by that hair, her tongue lashing out to lick at the place between his manhood and his sac. She pulls back and advances again, her rhythm fast and hard, taking him deep each time, his hips thrusting to meet the tempo of his wife’s ravenous feast. He can hold himself back no longer and, with a resounding growl, he pours his seed into her waiting mouth; she takes every drop of it, wasting none.

He touches her chin, urges her to her feet with the gentle, light contact. Their mouths tangle again, and he samples his flavor on her tongue as he wraps himself around her, releasing the clasp of her chiton and letting it fall from her voluptuous body. And, you know, he doesn’t think he tastes a thing like pomegranate! He can’t imagine where that rumor’s come from!


End file.
